Flirt
by Alyxya
Summary: Draco is flirting with Harry. Unconsciously.


This story was published by my best friend Nischino on an Italian website. Since I like it so much I have decided to try and translate it in English: this way I hope more people will be able to read it and like it as much as I do :)

Please keep in mind that English is not my mother language so, even though I have tried to do the best job possible, there may be some inconsistencies or mistakes.

Enjoy and please leave some reviews ^_^

**Flirt**

-Really, Draco, you should stop it- says Pansy, stretching. She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, as if she were answering to something that Draco just said, but he has no idea what she is talking about.

-What?- he asks, without even looking at her, staring at his Transfiguration essay. It should be twenty inches long, but he has barely written twelve.

-You should stop it- Pansy reasserts -It's becoming even too plain and _you_ are becoming almost pathetic-.

Draco puts down his quill, irritated, and looks at her.

-Pansy, what are you talking about?- he asks, nervous.

She looks back at him, her eyes wide open, as if –_really_- Draco were an idiot.

-Potter- she whispers as an explanation, even though the Common Room is empty -You should stop flirting with Potter-

-I'm not flirting with Potter!- replies Draco, indignant -Why the hell do you think that?-

Pansy giggles and gets closer to him.

-Honey, it's _so_ obvious- she murmurs

-_It's-not-true_- enunciates Draco -I'm not flirting with Potter. I don't even _like _Potter-

-Of course not- Pansy humours him -I honestly don't know what I was thinking!-

Draco can feel his fingers itching, but he can't possibly punch his best friend. But he'd like to. Definitely.

He's not flirting with Potter. He's never done it and he never will.

On the other hand, Pansy is looking at him with her know-it-all smile on her face, that seems to be saying _I know I'm right _and Draco can't take it.

-I like Potter- he gives in, quietly -But I've never flirted with him-

-Perhaps- allows Pansy -You are doing it unconsciously-

-I'm not flirting unconsciously!- struggles Draco -I don't even know what _flirting unconsciously_ means-

Pansy crosses her legs, smiling.

-It's what you do, all those things like thrusting your chest out, raising an eyebrow, wrinkling your lips and stretching your neck out, all to make him look at you. I can tell when Potter enters a room just by looking at you, sweetie-.

Draco knows he's blushing and, on top of that, he feels a little humiliated.

-This is nonsense- he mutters, grabbing his quill and looking down again, hoping that Pansy won't notice the tone of his cheeks.

She doesn't say a thing, but she does clack her tongue, which is more than enough to uphold Draco's dreads.

The next day Draco is set on proving Pansy wrong, so he brings her to the library. He knows that Potter is there, studying with his friends in preparation for the OWLs (where else could Granger be?), so he makes up an amazing lie –that she clearly believes- about a book he needs to look up for a Potions essay, and he makes her come along.

Draco notices Harry as soon as they enter the room. He's got his head buried in a tome and he's passing his hand through his messy hair. Weasley, who is sitting next to him, is rolling pieces of parchment into little balls and piling them up, showing promising architectural skills. Granger looks at him, annoyed.

Pansy follows Draco to a table near them and waits for him while he looks for a random textbook.

When he comes back she's already taken some parchment paper out of her bag, writing in the corners of an already marked Charms' homework. Draco sits down, opens his manual and starts reading the first page he can find.

Harry, who's sitting in front of him –which is strange since he picked that table without even thinking about it-, suddenly takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, looking tired. When he puts them back on he catches Draco's eye, who elegantly raises an eyebrow and smiles mildly.

Harry blushes and looks back down, as always.

Draco loves making him blush and he loves the way Harry –there, right now- casts a quick glance at him to check if he's still staring. Draco moves to the right and loosens his tie, so that Harry is able to see how sexy he is when he does it. He knows that Harry finds him bewitching and this makes his move even more captivating.

Harry's eyes keep staring at his skin and Draco softly caresses his throat with two fingers –up and down-, so that Harry can imagine –and blush again- and –oh- he feels like Harry's fingers are caressing him now. He passes his thumb on his lips and narrows his eyes; Harry's glance is chained to his, dark and predatory.

Draco knows every single thing Harry would like to do to him. He imagines it. His hands ripping his clothes off, his hands gently stroking his chest, his hands closing around his waist and pushing him against a wall.

Harry's mouth, hot and wet, wrapped around his. And his tongue outlining _every single part_ of his body, one by one, calmly and scrupulously, with reverence and attention, so that everything can be perfect.

His trousers have tightened but he doesn't really care. He does have a jumper on, and he can sit there as long as he wants, waiting for it to go away. It's worth it if he gets to look at Harry panting, his cheeks red.

He would let him do anything to him. _Anything_.

His mouth has dried up, so he wets his lips with the tongue. Harry goggles –he sees it clearly- and does the same. Draco repeats the experiment and it works again.

These are the moments in which the fact that Harry wants him becomes so plain that it almost hurts. But then there are other moments when Draco isn't even sure he _tolerates _him. Harry avoids him and is really rude.

Though, when he looks at him that way –and reacts that way to _his _looks- Draco can't help but thinking that Harry wants the same things he does.

Wanting to taste his skin has almost become an obsession. He wants to bite it and dig his fingernails into it, hurting him and making him scream.

The idea of Harry screaming is –_oh god_- terrific, and Draco has to bite his lips so that he doesn't moan for real.

Harry is now staring at him attentively, with his hands crossed in front of his face, hiding his mouth. Draco hates that because he loves his mouth and everything it stands for –and everything he could do to it-.

Harry's look is burning him up and Draco feels almost like he's touching him, thinking that he'd only need his mouth to be happy, just one kiss, nothing else.

He sighs out loud, almost without noticing –or, at least, when he notices it's already too late-.

Harry stands up. Draco thinks –desperately- _"no, no, no" _while he comes towards him as if he wanted to kill him. He moves quickly, in a rigid, mechanic, way and he stops right in front of him.

Draco tries to come up with an excuse and –oh, come _on_!- he's a Slytherin, he has to come up with something. But he can't think of anything, maybe because he's too busy trying to hold back his instincts and everything he can think of is that, damn it, Pansy was right.

He's flirting with Potter, that's undeniable, even though he's never been so obvious about it.

Harry leans towards him –and Draco is really afraid he's going to punch him- but all of a sudden he grabs his uniform and presses his mouth against his.

It's not a kiss, it's more of a messy clash of lips and teeth.

Harry moves away, but doesn't let go of his shirt. He's panting.

-Malfoy- he growls, still on his mouth –you have to stop it-

-Stop what?- Draco murmurs, confused, with a sense of déjà vu

-You have to stop flirting with me if you have no intention of going any further-.

Draco considers Harry's words, attentively -even though he can't really think straight with their mouths so close together- and decides that if he's kissed him that whole avoiding and being rude business was probably just a misunderstanding.

-I intend to go further- he says, passing his hands around Harry's waist.

He looks surprised and lightens his grip, but still doesn't let go completely.

-Starting right now- Draco adds, leaning towards him.

This time they actually kiss. Harry's mouth tastes incredible –just like he'd imagined- and the way his arms hurry to hold him against his chest lets him think that everything else –just like he'd imagined- is going to be incredible.

Pansy smiles, happy for his best friend's happiness and for the ten Galleons she's going to get when she'll tell Blaise how she's won their bet.


End file.
